


big shoes to fill

by notallballs (notallbees)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Mentor/Protégé, Mostly Gen, Post-Canon, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Summer, Team Bonding, Teasing, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: It was five minutes to noon, and the air in the gym, while still slow and suffocating, had begun to buzz.Yamamoto and Kenma may have settled into their roles as captain and vice-captain of Nekoma, but a visit from some familiar faces gives them pause for thought.





	big shoes to fill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [introvertednerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/introvertednerd/gifts).



> This was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoy~

It was five minutes to noon, and the air in the gym, while still slow and suffocating, had begun to buzz. Kenma frowned up at the clock, and then at Inuoka, who was currently serving balls over the net for the first years to receive. The new frisson of energy in the gym didn't really make sense, since Kenma, Yamamoto and Fukunaga were the only ones who knew who was meant to be arriving at twelve. 

Kenma ran his eyes over the rest of the team. Lev was practicing his jump serve in a corner of the gym while Shibayama dove around scooping them up, but they'd gotten distracted by something and were giggling together as they picked up a few stray volleyballs. 

"Lev!" barked Yamamoto from just over Kenma's shoulder. "Stop scrambling around and start practicing that jump serve!" 

Having spent the past five months enduring this kind of treatment, Kenma didn't flinch, but he did turn and glare at his captain. 

Yamamoto grinned sheepishly at him. "Sorry, Kenma." 

"You don't need to yell at him every time," Kenma scolded in a dull voice. "That's exactly what he wants." 

"Nobody _wants_ to get yelled at," Yamamoto insisted, and let out a raucous burst of laughter. 

Kenma sighed and didn't bother trying to explain. They'd had this argument a hundred times, and he didn't feel like rehashing it today of all days. 

"What time is it?" Yamamoto asked, resting an elbow on Kenma's shoulder. 

Despite the fact that Kenma was too hot, and Yamamoto's arm was heavy, Kenma didn't immediately push him off. He did, however, click his tongue and say, "The clock is right there."

Yamamoto's weight shifted as he turned to look. "Oh yeah! Hey, aren't they late?" 

"Not yet," Kenma said, shrugging him off.

"Should we set up a game?" Yamamoto asked, trailing after him as Kenma walked over to grab his water bottle. "We haven't played six on six yet." 

Kenma swallowed his mouthful of water then hummed, thoughtful. "Let's wait till—"

He was interrupted by a commotion at the other side of the gym. The second years abandoned their drills, and most of the first years crowded after them. Kenma's stomach was a knot. 

"Kuroo-san!" 

"Hey, Kuroo-senpai!" 

"Yaku-san!" 

Kenma's shoulders tensed. In his periphery, he saw Yamamoto's do the same, and was abruptly annoyed with Kuroo for showing up at all. Until this morning, he'd been looking forward to it. He hadn't seen Kuroo since his friend moved to the far side of Tokyo to start his degree, but seeing him standing in the doorway to their crummy little gym made Kenma's skin feel too tight. Kuroo didn't belong there anymore, and all of Kenma's anticipation at seeing him again turned to a rock in his gut. 

"They're early," Yamamoto muttered, glancing up at the clock. It was still three minutes to twelve. 

"Who're you more scared of?" Kenma asked in a low voice. "Kuroo, or Yaku?"

Yamamoto cast him a dirty, sideways glance. "Neither," he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. After a moment he grimaced, and his shoulders slumped a little. "Well...probably Yaku-san." His frown deepened. "A-and Kuroo-san, I guess. He can be mean when he wants to be."

"Mm," Kenma hummed, who personally felt that Kuroo was about as firm as a feather pillow. A no-doubt-misplaced sense of loyalty stopped him from admitting this to Yamamoto. "Only when you deserve it."

"Kenma!" Kuroo yelled suddenly, looking up from the crowd of second years that had clustered around him, his voice echoing across the gym. "Stop neglecting your senpai!" 

Kenma's neutral expression dissolved into a heartfelt scowl. If Kuroo noticed, it didn't dampen his cheer one iota; moments later, his stupid hyena laugh rang across the room in response to something Yaku had said. 

"Woah," said a first year nearby, fumbling his water bottle. "Kenma-senpai, your face is scary."

"Good," Kenma muttered. He glanced up at Yamamoto, who appeared to have stopped working, and was staring across the gym at Kuroo and Yaku with a look of terrified determination. "Oi. Taketora."

"Hhh," Yamamoto replied.

Kenma sighed. "Come on," he said, reaching out and tugging on Yamamoto's t-shirt. "Let's get this over with."

They crossed the gym, and Yaku turned and greeted them both warmly. He seemed more relaxed than usual, maybe because he wasn't responsible for the mass of sweaty, borderline-hysterical volleyball gremlins that were currently hanging off his and Kuroo's every word. There was something different about him though, a faint aura that Kenma couldn't quite pinpoint. 

"Yamamoto!" Kuroo said, looking up from his conversation with Inuoka and several of the first years. "How's it feel to be captain of this rabble?"

Yamamoto was so stiff and awkward beside Kenma he might as well have been a statue. He jumped at Kuroo's direct address, his mouth opening and closing uselessly a couple of times. 

"Sou," Kenma said, casting a lazy glance in Inuoka's direction. "Is Taketora a good captain?"

Inuoka's face brightened again. "Oh my god, yeah! He's great, he's always got all these great plans for practice, and—oh." He trailed off, paling, his eyes darting across to Kuroo, who laughed.

"It's fine," Kuroo said, raising both hands in a _what-can-you-do_ gesture. "I want to hear all about it."

Encouraged, Inuoka picked up his stream of praise again, and ran on uninterrupted for a couple of minutes—aside from the odd spluttered protest by Yamamoto, and the occasional interjection or agreement by the other second years—before finally running out of steam. As he babbled, Yamamoto's shoulders gradually relaxed, his chest puffing up and the back of his neck flushing. Kenma watched the hint of a smile on Kuroo's face, and the way he slouched against the wall and Yaku, with that familiar effortless ability to look at home anywhere. 

"Sounds like it's going pretty great," Kuroo said at last, his gaze sliding across to Yamamoto again. "He might even be a better captain than me," he mused, putting his elbow on Yaku's shoulder and leaning in close to stage whisper in his ear. "What do you think, Yakkun?"

"Of course he is," Yaku said, jabbing his elbow into Kuroo's ribs. "It's not a high bar to clear."

Fukunaga smothered a snort, and Kenma caught his eye.

"Yakkun!" Kuroo protested. "Now you're being mean to both of us!" 

"What a shame," Yaku said in a deadpan voice.

"U-uh, Kuroo-san," Yamamoto said, finally finding his voice. He had apparently not noticed Yaku half-insulting him. "We were thinking of playing six on six. Do you and Yaku-san wanna play with us?"

Kuroo's smile widened, and he nudged Yaku's shoulder. "What do you say, Yakkun?"

"Stop calling me that, and I'll consider it," Yaku growled, but he was beaming nonetheless. 

"Oh, I want Yaku on my team!" Lev yelped, raising one long arm and waving it over his head. "Yaku-san, Yaku-san!" 

Yaku made a face. "On second thoughts."

"Too late now, Yaku-paisen," Kuroo teased. 

While Yamamoto divided up the teams, Kenma pulled Kuroo aside to help him move the net into place for their game. It was quick work between the two of them, and after a couple of minutes Kenma caught Kuroo looking sidelong at him. 

"What is it," he asked eventually, tired of this game before it even began. 

"Nice headband," Kuroo said approvingly, his eyes drifting to the thin band holding Kenma's hair back from his face. "I almost didn't recognise you without your hair hiding your face."

Kenma shrugged. "It got annoying."

"How many times did I warn you about it getting in your eyes during games?"

"Shut up," Kenma muttered, rolling his eyes. "You sound like an old man."

"I am an old man."

Kenma snorted. 

"Finally," Kuroo said. His mouth pulled into a lopsided grin. "I thought you were mad at me."

"I am mad at you," Kenma said without thinking. 

Kuroo's eyes widened. "Wait, not really?" When Kenma nodded, Kuroo straightened up with a frown. "Is this because I couldn't make it back for golden week?"

"What?" Kenma asked, nose wrinkling. "Don't be an idiot, I don't care about that." He glanced across the gym, to where Yamamoto was directing the teams, his gaze darting over in their direction far more often than was necessary. "Tell Taketora he's doing a good job."

"Oh," Kuroo said, stopping still. His frown deepened. "Wait, what?"

"Just do it."

Kuroo dithered, shifting his weight on the spot. "I already said it was going good."

Kenma gave a long, weary sigh. "Kuro," he groaned. 

"Alright!"

"Just...take him to one side and tell him he's a great captain. Maybe tell him not to yell at Lev so much."

Kuroo snorted. "Lev _wants_ to get yelled at, it's pointless."

For a moment, Kenma remembered just why he and Kuroo were such good friends, why they'd tolerated each other all these years, and he was filled with a warm sense of appreciation for his friend. 

"Hey," Kuroo continued. "Should I get my eyebrow pierced?"

Kenma grimaced, the warm feelings dissolving. "That's a good idea," he muttered, throwing Kuroo a sarcastic look. "Let people know what an ass you are without going to the trouble of talking to you."

"I'm hurt, Kenma," Kuroo said flatly. 

"So go cry on Yaku's shoulder."

"Hey!" Kuroo protested. The lack of any usual comeback made Kenma turn and look at him. Kuroo was pink, and unusually silent. _Interesting_ "I'll talk to Yamamoto," Kuroo muttered.

"Yeah," Kenma replied, not bothering to dignify that with a proper response. 

They all assembled on the court in their assigned positions, and someone threw Kuroo a ball to take the first serve.

"Nice serve, loser-senpai!" Yaku called over his shoulder. 

"Yakkun!" Kuroo yelped. 

The game finally got underway, and they played a gruelling set to 29 points, neither side willing to concede victory. Kenma and Yamamoto's team finally emerged victorious over Kuroo and Yaku, which had the added benefit for Kenma of defeating Lev, who had been insistent on playing on the same team as Yaku. 

"I'm sorry, Yaku-san!" Lev wailed, as they made their way out of the sweltering gym to try and revive themselves in the mildly fresher air outside. 

"You should be," Yaku said, his words harsher than his tone for once. "You're the one who kept showing off and getting in everyone's way."

Kuroo laughed, and Kenma could help noticing a couple of the first years snickering at the sound of it. He rolled his eyes, and took a seat on the stone steps to watch the first years run around. After a few moments, Yaku took a seat beside him, leaning back on his hands. 

"I dunno where they get all that energy from," Yaku observed. "I just played one set and I already feel like I need to lie down."

"Watching them makes me tired," Kenma agreed.

Yaku nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes, interrupted only by the occasional first year who ran screaming past, or the hum of a nearby cicada. Eventually, Yaku cleared his throat, and when Kenma glanced sideways, he could see Yaku's mouth twisted down as he tried to figure out how to say something.

"What is it?"

Yaku startled and looked at him, then laughed under his breath. "I forgot you notice everything."

Kenma looked back at him, impassive.

"Has, um." Yaku sighed. "Has Kuroo said anything to you?"

"He said he's getting an eyebrow piercing."

Yaku's own pale eyebrows shot up. "He did?" He started to laugh. "What the fuck, he's such a loser."

Kenma nodded.

"Oh my god, I can't believe—" Yaku trailed off, still laughing. "You'd still be friends with Kuroo, no matter what, right?"

"Even if he got an eyebrow piercing, you mean?"

"Not exactly," Yaku said, looking away, the volume of his voice dropping slightly. "I mean—if there was something—if he was—"

Kenma cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said, hoping never to have to hear Yaku finish that sentence. "I'd still be his friend." He gave Yaku a significant look. "I'd still be yours too."

Yaku gave him a rueful grin. "You don't know what I was going to say."

"It doesn't matter."

"Okay."

"You did hear the part about him getting his eyebrow pierced, right?"

Yaku laughed again. "Unfortunately."

Kenma shrugged. "Then I can't save you."

"Hey!" Lev shouted, waving at them from over by the trees. "What's so funny, Yaku-san?"

Yaku grimaced. "Ugh, Lev…"

"Don't worry," Kenma murmured, his eyes on Kuroo, who was a few metres away, scrambling onto the top of a picnic bench. "I think Kuroo's about to do something dumb and heroic."

Sure enough, once Kuroo had established himself on top of the picnic table, he started yelling for everyone to gather round him. The first years rushed over, while everyone else followed at a more sedate pace. 

"Kuroo, what the hell are you doing?" Yaku growled up at him.

"Something very important," Kuroo told him sternly. He glanced around until he found Yamamoto in the crowd, then pointed a finger at him. "Yo, Yamamoto—what are we?"

Yamamoto blinked up at him. "We're...Nekoma?"

Kuroo grinned. "Close, but not quite. Any guesses?"

Kenma sighed. He pressed through the crowd, and tugged on Yamamoto's t-shirt, then leaned in to whisper in his ear. A grin spread across Yamamoto's face as he stood back.

"We're the body's blood," he said, moving closer to Kuroo. 

"Flow smoothly," Inuoka said, picking up the chant.

"And circulate oxygen!" shouted Lev. 

"So the brain functions normally," Yamamoto finished. Kuroo reached down to offer him a hand, and the two of them switched places, Kuroo jumping down from the table while Yamamoto climbed up onto it and set his hands on his hips. "We are the body's blood!" he shouted, his voice echoing over their heads.

"I hate that chant," Kenma sighed.

Kuroo grinned at him. "No, you don't."

Reluctantly, Kenma returned his smile. "No, I don't."


End file.
